“Does it have to mean anything at all?” I asked, my heart throbbing with a broken, hopeless feeling. Because my desires no longer matched my reality. Because deep down I wanted this to mean more too. But what future could we possibly have when I couldn’t even imagine a relationship that extended beyond the edge of tonight? After all, this was all I had to offer. This was all I was. A present tense of a person.
Quietly, Kai replied, “Everything means something, Anya. Even nothing means something.”
With slow, half-conscious movements, like waking up from a dream, I untangled myself from him, but when I tried to stand up, he seized my wrists and drew me back down on his lap. “Look,” he breathed, his eyes gentle despite the firmness of his hold, “this is very new to you, or at least it feels new to you, and that scares me. I don’t want us to rush into something just to end up hurting each other.”
“Yes, I know,” I said more crossly than I meant it, feeling defensive and embarrassed and painfully frustrated with myself.
“Perhaps if you get your memories back—”
“I don’t want to get my memories back,” I cut him off, my throat pulsing from all the tears I was holding. “I want to make new ones. Here. With you.”
“I want that too,” he reassured me. “But I still think we need to take it slow. For your sake.”
At a loss for words, I relaxed into his embrace, staring over his shoulder at the fire through the metal screen, the fragmented view of the logs surrendering to the flames. I had never done that. I had never given myself to anything so completely. And that was all I wanted now. To give myself to him. Tobemyself through him. Like heat came from log and flame.
Kai squeezed my shoulder to draw my attention, but in the shadow of pride I could not bring myself to pay him the tribute of looking back.
“I really want to make this work, Anya,” he whispered.
“So you said,” I muttered.
“But you didn’t say anything.”
Shaking, feeling something in me crack, I heaved, “Kai, I’m half in love with you already. And I did notice. At work. I did notice you notice me. I just… I didn’t want to admit it because… I don’t know, because I’m stupid.”
I tried to stand again, but he regathered me into his arms, his fingers prying mine away when I raised them to my eyes. “Look at me,” he urged, and the more I resisted, the firmer his grip became, recapturing my wrists and twisting them down. “Look at me, Anya. You’re not stupid. Please, don’t feel rejected. I hate that I’m making you feel like this.”
“I don’t feel rejected,” I croaked. “I’m just embarrassed.”
Gingerly, with a gentleness that broke me, he let go of my wrists and leaned in to press a kiss to my temple, his hand pillowing the side of my face. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, okay? I’m just asking for a little bit of time. That is all.”
“What are you so afraid of?” I asked, finally lifting my eyes to his.
He raked his teeth over his bottom lip, his face heating. “I guess I don’t want to be the person you chose because you didn’t have anyone else to choose. Because I’m one of the very few people that feel familiar to you.”
Needing the comfort of his closeness, I tucked my face in the crook of his neck as I confessed, “I’ve been wanting this for a very long time now. Long before that night.”
I felt him stiffen beneath me, his fingers, which had started tracing lines up and down my back, pausing at the knuckle of my spine. “What do you think happened that night?”
“I’m not sure,” I murmured. “But I think it’s connected to that word. Nostalgia.”
To my surprise, Kai’s expression grew hard, almost revengeful. “Anya,” he said sharply, “what if something seriously messed up happened during your last assessment? What if they did something to you?”
Rapidly, I shook my head, knowing well what he was about to say next. “No, I can’t go back to the Center, Kai. I was so scared. I was so… I thought I’d die in there.”
Slipping a hand over my nape, he brought my forehead to his. “Okay,” he said, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth as if to encourage me to do the same. “Okay. Let’s just forget about it for now, yes?”
I said nothing, and we lapsed into another tense silence. I would have given anything to know what he was thinking of me then, of my very stubborn and somewhat unreasonable way of handling all of this. But I couldn’t bring myself to ask, to restart this conversation and risk tainting even more of our moments together.
Clearing my throat, I cast a vague look at the table over my shoulder. “You think we can finish all of this?”
The smile he gave me was small and strained, his eyes melancholy-black. “I always cook way too much.”
“Let’s clean up,” I said, but the moment we stood, Kai took my hand in his and guided me back to the sofa.
“Sit,” he instructed. “I’ll do it.”
“But you cooked.”
